


Sequel to A Crash

by delorita



Category: Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, POV First Person, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-11
Updated: 2010-05-11
Packaged: 2017-11-08 18:42:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/446295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delorita/pseuds/delorita





	Sequel to A Crash

Disclaimer: They are not mine and I don’t make any money with this.  
Notes: Big Thanks again to the dear queerlyobscure.  
Watson’s POV.

After writing it, I found a quote in the original book, that totally fits this little PWP:

“It was difficult to refuse any of Sherlock Holmes’s requests, for they were always so exceedingly definite and put forward with such a quiet affair of mastery.”

++++++++++

Even though I had come merely seconds before, I am so eager to feel Holmes inside me, that I curl myself up into a ball on the scratchy tiger skin. I completely ignore the hard floor beneath it; only concentrate on Holmes’s dick, ever so slowly entering my tight anus.

I hiss because we haven’t done it with me at the receiving end in a while. He freezes and pulls out.

“Wait.” He murmurs, searching for the bottle of bath oil I had used to lube myself up before pushing him on his desk. He pours himself a generous amount of the fluid on his hand; whispering to me to stay in this position.

I grin and obey.

He kneels in front of me, grinning back.

His dark eyes black with desire.

“My dear, dear Watson…” He almost only mouths the endearment, while taking both my bollocks into his hands, massaging gently.

A deep groan escapes me at the unexpected action and I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Look at me,” he orders huskily, sliding one of his slippery hands teasingly slow towards my entrance. I do as he says and am rewarded with my favourite expression on his face.

The expression that says he trusts me.

The expression of passion and unbelievable desire.

I dare say the expression of love.

We lock gazes.

I cant my hips even more to get closer to his exploring fingers.

“John…” He says affectionately and slips his middle finger into me, penetrating me gently, moving in and out inch by inch.

“Holmes…” I want to thrash my head from side to side because of the intensity of the feeling. But his insisting stare doesn’t allow me to break eye contact. While his left hand is rolling my balls not too hard and not too tender either, he licks his lips in utter concentration.

“More.” I moan, pulling my thighs apart even wider and swallowing the lump in my throat, licking my bottom lip, then my moustache ever so deliberately slow.

“Fuck, Watson!” He exclaims harshly, abandoning my balls to support himself on his left arm, bending down and kissing me furiously. That was exactly the reaction I wanted by tracing my tongue over my 'tache. I just know he goes crazy when I do that.

I kiss him back with so much favour that he starts to groan into my mouth, breathing through his nose, but neither of us would break the intense contact soon. He adds a second moist finger into my hole, stretching me, opening me up.

I finally pull away from the kiss to utter desperately, “Fuck me already, Holmes.”

He sits back on his heals, quirking an eyebrow, “Fuck you? Watson, what ordinary language.” But while saying so, he lubes up his impressive length with more bath oil, applies some to my not so uninterested member as well, which makes me groan very inarticulate.

“I am going to fuck you, my dear Watson…now…” And with that he slides into me, bending over me, supporting himself with both arms. “Better?”

I can only nod my head. I manage to get my hands onto his buttocks and press him all the way in. “Jesus Christ!” He moans into my ear. “Good God, Watson, you have the most deliciously tight channel...”

I grab his hair, “And you have the most impressive shaft ever…my dear Holmes.” I whisper back dirtily. He only huffs hot breath against my neck for an answer, rocking into me, trying to find the right angle. I fist my hard dick between us, colliding with his hand. We loop our fingers together and he starts his secret chant of my first name. Our bodies shake, push, rock and clench in a rhythm of power and trust.

My brain is shut off. All I can do is feel. Waves of pleasure and strength electrify my body and soul.

“I… love… you… John.”

That’s the sentence he’d never say with a conscious mind, but I know it anyway. Each of the words is punctuated with a forceful thrust into my body. I am melting in his hands and at the tip of his shaft and cream both our fingers with thick, hot spurts of my seed, muttering “Sherlock.” Just once into his ear.

His rhythm gets erratic and he shudders violently; sensing that he would yell out uncontrollably I pull his head toward mine and kiss him devouringly through his climax.

Then his limbs give up and he collapses onto me, after I have quickly entangled my legs from his neck.

We lie there for minutes, breathing harshly, catching our senses. I keep stroking my hands over his muscular but slender back. He snuggles his face into my chest hair, index finger stroking over my right nipple absent minded. It is ticklish by now and I capture his hand.

“You know, Holmes, whatever you brewed…it was in my tea too, wasn’t it?”

I only feel his chuckle beneath my palm since it is silent and he tries to stifle it.

“Do you mind?” His voice sounds very sleepy already.

“Not in the slightest.” I chuckle as well.

There might be side effects though…but for now, I will not disturb him with that doctor like question. I am feeling far too content and too satisfied, to make a problem out of it, nor of the pieces of shattered glass that still were scattered all over the floor on the other side of the room.

F I N


End file.
